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Thursday, 1 July, 2004

by Dion Nicolaas

--- .. --..- -...... -.....-- \|.....@- ---.....\| --....\| ---.-- --- @ "It's summer outside. Time for outdoor festivals!"	-..!............... \|.................. ----............... \|....GG.h....--- ---......--.--- \|..@...--..... ---........... ---...--.--- \|..-- -- @ "What do I get?"	-- --.o. \| --o.oo.------- .......oo..... ..\| -....ooT......--.--- -............@.GG.- -.... --.....\|.. \|.\|.\|.\|.. \| ------. @ "RockBilbo saw that the moment had come when he must do something. He could not get up at the brutes and he had nothing to shoot with; but looking about he saw that in this place there were many stones lying in what appeared to be a now dry little watercourse. Bilbo was a pretty fair shot with a stone, and it did not take him long to find a nice smooth egg-shaped one that fitted his hand cosily. As a boy he used to practise throwing stones at things, until rabbits and squirrels, and even birds, got out of his way as quick as lightning if they saw him stoop; and even grownup he had still spent a deal of his time at quoits, dart-throwing, shooting at the wand, bowls, ninepins and other quiet games of the aiming and throwing sort - indeed he could do lots of things, besides blowing smoke-rings, asking riddles and cooking, that I haven't time to tell you about. There is no time now. While he was picking up stones, the spider had reached Bombur, and soon he would have been dead. At that moment Bilbo threw. The stone struck the spider plunk on the head, and it dropped senseless off the tree, flop to the ground, with all its legs curled up. [ The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien ] Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details. TrollThe troll shambled closer. He was perhaps eight feet tall, perhaps more. His forward stoop, with arms dangling past thick claw-footed legs to the ground, made it hard to tell. The hairless green skin moved upon his body. His head was a gash of a mouth, a yard-long nose, and two eyes which drank the feeble torchlight and never gave back a gleam. [...] Like a huge green spider, the troll's severed hand ran on its fingers. Across the mounded floor, up onto a log with one taloned forefinger to hook it over the bark, down again it scrambled, until it found the cut wrist. And there it grew fast. The troll's smashed head seethed and knit together. He clambered back on his feet and grinned at them. The waning faggot cast red light over his fangs. [ Three Hearts and Three Lions, by Poul Anderson ] Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details. and his Band of Orcs!"
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